Bones, Blood & Teeth Erode
by FuckShitUp
Summary: 'Your classic Bonnie & Clyde.' Jasper and Bella seem to be on the run from the cops; love and hatred proceed. RATED M for the soft hearted, and the little lemon.


**A/N: This is a bit of a struggle for me to write, considering a few things that've occurred in my life... Well, lets just say that this might be my breaking point. I've really just have to get some things off my chest, and this is the only way to really express myself.. As fucking lame as that is. ;) **

**I'm not quite sure what to call this story...**

**THANKZ**

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She ran the thin blade along the underside of her bicep, drawing tiny, sweet drops of crimson. The smile on her face could tell anyone that she was happy, or at least trying. The blood dripped onto the bed she was occupying, staining the pristine white bed sheets.

It's her only little bit of control, can you blame her?

* * *

I wrapped my arms around his torso, crying into his t-shirt. He'd been gone for quite a while. He tilted my chin up to look him in the eyes which began a whole new tirade of tears that tumbled down my cheeks and off the dimple below my lips.

"Shh, love. Don't cry over me." He whispered into my hair that it would all be okay, that he'd be around from now on. I still didn't believe him, but I let him away with the fact that I had someone to curl around during the night; someone who'd overlook the papers and mason jars that, scattered around my room, could almost pass for decorations if one didn't know the contents and use of said objects.

I buried my head in the crook where his arm met his body, under his shoulder. He hugged me tight and I began to think how good it felt, the flame of his touch against all the tiny scars over my body.

"Jasper, what now?" My lip quivered as I thought.

"It's just us, I suppose." Jasper told me the truth, he never did consider trying to hide things from me to prevent my feelings from being hurt. I cried even harder at the statement, everything was destroyed. Ruined.

* * *

I tapped the syringe to make sure no air bubbles could pass into my blood stream and began tying the tourniquet near my elbow. The relief I felt when the steel bound needle pierced through my thin flesh was indescribable- euphoric. Jasper grinned at me and he toppled over the bag of our belongings. A knife, a gun, very few pieces of clothing. We'd need to fix our situation on clothes. We couldn't be caught.

My head began to pulse and I knew I was feeling my fantastic high that brought me to another, more civil, place. He snatched the needle out of my hand and threw it out the window. 'Erasing our tracks', he'd told me.

Hundred dollar bills were scattered around my head and I revelled in the scent of grime, copper and the faint perfume that came with money. Jasper tugged on my shirt, pulling me up to him. I cradled his head in my hands and pulled his hair in all different ways.

His calloused hands ran up and down my sides, moving around to my back. Jasper quickly rid me of my clothes, snapping the clasp on the back of my bra in record time. His mouth covered mine and I sighed at the electricity that seemed to resonate between the two of us. My jeans soon followed my discarded shirt on the floor, Jasper finding the wet spot on my panties. He pressed his thumb onto my clit and I moaned deeply.

He smirked, bit his lip, then began to remove his own clothing. I leaned back on my elbows, taking in all of him. Clad in just his boxers, Jasper returned to me and hooked his fingers in the sides of my underwear. I adjusted my hips, so as he could pull them all the way off me. I knew this routine well.

Jasper rapidly pumped two fingers in and out of my pussy, stopping every few seconds to lick my juices from his hand. I was beginning to feel the tightness in my stomach, the dizzying pressure between my legs. Soon, though, Jasper's hand came around my neck and he pressed those slender, tanned fingers into my flesh.

I could feel the bruises, on top of bruises, but I just kept bucking wildly against his hand that was still inside me. Hoping, futilely, to get my release just this once.

However, blackness took me as Jasper strangled me into unconsciousness.

* * *

Hours later, I woke to find a rare soreness in my bottom. The bed was stained with sex, the smell of what Jasper had done to me while I was out still lingered in the room. I plucked a t-shirt off the ground and pulled it over my head before padding the twenty feet out to the kitchen.

Jasper was there, shooting up. He yawned and I saw the muscles in his neck twitch and strain. My feet carried me over to where he was, my hands began their massaging of his back and shoulders. I kissed his temple and he smiled back at me.

He'd said we were 'the best thing since Bonnie and Clyde'. I actually was beginning to think the same thing.

* * *

Before long, we were back out on the streets. We struggled with the two bags that we carried with us at all times, tying one to Jasper's back and using the other as a sort of purse for myself. We looked like lost tourists, perhaps, or maybe we really didn't fit in and showed our true homeless colours.

But, maybe, just maybe, we pulled off our facade quite nicely. We'll never know, I suppose.

Jasper whispered to me to keep my noise level down, the crunching of my shoes against the leaves on the sidewalk was 'distracting' him. He closed his eyes and relaxed, looking much like the predator he'd tried to tell me he was years ago.

Those grey eyes snapped open, wildly looking about for whatever he'd heard or smelled. He ushered me over to an alley, telling me not to move until he instructed me to do so. So, I stood.

My hair felt almost wet, but I knew that couldn't be. It was more likely sweat or blood coating each strand than the cleanliness of water.

"Bella..." I heard the muted voice as I crawled against the wall to Jasper's accomplished face that peered around the corner there. He looked in his glee, but, I supposed he would be quite happy if he went through with his plan.

The scene that was laid out so precariously across the street from us seemed surreal, like us, common people, couldn't begin to comprehend how to accomplish such perfection. However, Jasper could. He was as skilled at his expertise as anyone could be.

I jumped into Jasper's waiting arms, snuggling against him. The blood stains on his jeans looked far too ground in to be washed out. Another pair for the garbage. The animals lying in the street, looking far too interested in what we were doing than they should've been, groaned final protests as their bodies gave up.

The bag that Jasper carried on his back was slightly heavier, the cash he'd just acquired weighed him down. "How about we go somewhere special for supper tonight, Bells?" Jasper took my hand and I skipped along to keep up with his fast pace.

My face must've taken on the brightness of the sun in the blue New York sky. "Really, Jazz?" My mouth popped open, audibly, and I had to stop walking to let it sink in. I hadn't eaten in about a week. Food.

Jasper smirked at me and nodded his head.

* * *

We could clean up well. The house we broke into was very nice, not so extravagant that they'd have security systems set up along each inch of space, but, big enough to have a suitable shower and some clean clothes. The owners were gone, it appeared. Thankfully, both Jasper and I got to shower and peruse the closets without interruption.

The seafood restaurant downtown was said to be very expensive, classy even. I was giddy with the thought of even stepping foot into it, let alone eating there. When a meal costs over $100 for two people, it was seen as off the radar for Jasper. I loved it, Jasper thought it was a waste. He was just doing this for me.

We were seated, served our menus within ten minutes. I smiled when Jasper pulled out my chair for me. He could be kind. I decided on the 'surf and turf' meal, consisting of steak and shrimp. Jasper, being very southern and 'classic'- as he says, ordered a chicken fried steak. His dimples popped out when he saw how my eyes glazed over at the mention of wine from the waiter.

The food was impeccable. Quite possibly to die for, even. However, we knew that more time in the public was more risk of our being caught. So, hurriedly, we paid the bill and began walking towards our shack a few blocks down.

We didn't get far, sirens surrounded us. Somehow, it seemed Jasper was expecting this. He just sighed, didn't even try to run from the police that loomed around us. I expected him to grab me and take off, run to another state or perhaps country.

But, no. We stood.

Jasper shook his head when the police officer asked if he was armed, pulling his hands behind his back and into a set of handcuffs. I tried to kick one of the men that pulled me towards a car, but Jasper just shouted at me to stop my childishness. He mouthed to the police officer that I was crazy.

I knew that.

I could accept that.

The trial, however, I couldn't bear.

My jail sentence was as follows; 'seventeen life terms for murder in the first degree'. He'd killed seventeen people. Then threw me under the bus for it.

I cried for days, I wouldn't eat and I wouldn't talk to anyone. Counsellors came and went, trying to get me to beg for a deal; an insanity plea maybe. I couldn't be bothered with it.

Jasper came to visit me one day. I sat in the chair, looked at him and smashed my fist through the plexiglass that separated us. He appeared dumbfounded, as if he shouldn't be paying for what he did. The last words I'd heard from him were 'you loved me, didn't you?'

* * *

I sat in my cell, contemplating what to do next. It'd been months now since anyone stopped to try and chat. I'd been moved to solitary because of unruly behaviour.

The thin strand that I'd created with one of my bed sheets rested on my shoulders. I knew this routine.

I fingered myself into oblivion, pulling tight on the rope that encased the column of my neck. The blackness helped sometimes.

The one thought, however, that kept replaying in my head was that I'd get to see him again. My vampire. My other half.

In seventeen hundred years we'd start this whole cycle again and it would be his turn to spend nearly two millennia inside a concrete cell.

* * *

**Short one, I know. Sorry. **

**It's really just a filler, to please the couple people that actually read this bull shit I post. I'm working on a bigger story and have run out of inspiration. :(**

**THANKZ **

**OOH, & no flaming for the creation of my own kind of vampires ; ones that bleed and pass out. :) **


End file.
